


Teach you Some Manners

by transjohnnygill



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Broken!Lavi, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:36:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6785482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transjohnnygill/pseuds/transjohnnygill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavi never knows when to shut up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach you Some Manners

**Author's Note:**

> Hoh boy. So, total 360 and then some from what I usually write.  
> Written for Crane (@wiselavi).  
> Imma go bury myself under 10k of fluff and happiness now.

Lavi's cheek stung from where the noah had backhanded him after the _cheeky_ comment that the redhead had made without a moment's hesitation. His grandfather sat in the chair next to his, face angled away from his successor as if to say, _"what were you expecting to happen?_ " In front of him, the noah's eyes burned like pools of molten gold, rage barely contained just beneath the surface.

Bookman often told Junior that he was incapable of knowing when it was a good time to shut his mouth. Out of all the lessons that his grandfather had tried to impart on him over the years, the ability to hold his tongue was one of the few things that he had actively failed to master; it was one of the few things that followed him from record to record. The personality traits that had bled over from “Lavi” weren’t doing him any favors in that regard at the moment either, his waggishness and what Bookman had labeled as his “childish impertinence” combining with his lack of tact into what might presently be described by some as a suicide wish. It didn’t help that “Lavi” wasn’t overly fond of authority figures outside of his grandfather. And Sheril Kamelot was an authority figure that wasn’t overly fond of or used to being disrespected.

It was a dangerous combination, and Lavi was playing with fire, the man in front of him an open can of gasoline.

"So how's this gonna work, Daddy-complex? I throw out a witticism, and you slap me around a little bit and tell me how bad I am? Gotta admit, you seem like that kinda guy, I mean you already got the whole bondage thing do--" Lavi's voice cut out as the noah's powers closed around his throat. His eyes watered as he struggled to breathe.

"How about a game, little pet: You'll be quite and I'll teach you some manners, hmm? And once you’ve finally learned your lesson, we’ll see if you picked up this complete lack of etiquette from your grandfather…" The man’s smile was malicious, feigning sweetness as he cooed to the younger bookman like a parent scolding a petulant child. Lavi gritted his teeth, still unable to draw breath or speak, finally forcing himself to concede to the man's terms.

However the minister never intended for Lavi to be able to hold up his end of the bargain, as the noah made certain that it was impossible for the young bookman to stay silent, though Lavi certainly wasn't talking. He _screamed_.

____________________

For once in his life, Lavi managed to hold his tongue, his throat sore and raw. If there ever came a day when he had some use for extensive knowledge of how to cause pain and suffering, Lavi now knew _exactly_ what would have made him talk, if he had actually had any information that the prime minister had desired. In the back of his mind, the younger bookman knew that his grandfather would never divulge clan secrets, even if it meant both of their lives. He silently hoped that whichever room the old Panda was in now was far enough away from his own that he at least hadn’t heard his apprentice beg. Given who they were dealing with though, Bookman had probably heard _every. Last. Word_. Lavi could already envision the look of disappointment, wondered halfheartedly if his grandfather would at least look sympathetic to his situation.

The prime minister was speaking to him again, but the redhead’s thoughts were still cloudy and spinning as he desperately tried to catch his breath while he was still able to. His mind couldn't grab a hold of the words that Sheril spoke, knowing that the man was taunting him as he perched himself on the arm of Lavi's chair, lounging there as if they were old friends as he caressed Lavi's cheek almost tenderly with his thumb. Whatever he had said, it obviously hadn't gotten the desired result, as the older man took a hold of Lavi's hair, forcing the exorcist to look him in the eye, resting his forehead against Lavi's, a sadistic smile playing at his lips.

"It's impolite to ignore a question. Do I need to remind you of your manners again, hmm?" Lavi drew in a rattled breath, quickly shaking his head no. The motion made his vision swim. Sheril pet his cheek gently. "Would you like me to repeat the question then?" A nod in affirmation. "Well then... Would. You like. This game. To end?"

 Each word was like twisting a knife, and before Lavi could stop himself, he felt his head move up and down, a single tear rolling down his cheek, uncertain if he had prompted the motion or if it was Sheril's doing. But this had been a battle of wills, and Lavi’s—his was broken. The noah placed a kiss on his bruised cheek near the corner of his mouth before turning and sauntering out of the room, hips swinging as he laughed like a madman.

Lavi could only pray that his master would live long enough to forgive him.


End file.
